


Protect Her

by CommandersLittleLavellan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Comfort, F/M, Near Death Experiences, Other, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, euthanasia mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommandersLittleLavellan/pseuds/CommandersLittleLavellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the crew were exploring a Dwarven Tomb in the Hissing Wastes, an accident leaves the Inquisitor on the brink of death.</p>
<p>This is just a drabble to explore the relationship between my Inquisitor and Dorian. I needed to angst and I wrote this a little while ago, just now deciding to post it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protect Her

**Author's Note:**

> Dorian is basically Ashiwyn's best friend

“It’s strange…” Ashiwyn said softly, tapping a thin finger to her chin, her inquisitive eyes studying the stone tablets around the chamber.  
Dorian stepped up beside her, leaning towards one particular tablet, squinting as he read. “I believe it’s a continuation of the last two chambers. We had to match up the tale in order again so the demons weren’t summoned…”  
Iron Bull, standing with his arms folded, spoke up, “What kind of dwarven ruins are these, anyway? Demons, Veil Fire… Weird shit.”  
“I don’t know.” Ashiwyn straightened and turned to face the other two, Bull and Cole, “Anyway, we should head back to camp. Take as little as possible, something not too invaluable that could cause trouble.”  
The three men nodded to her and after a short while they filed out of the chamber and into a larger one, with wooden scaffolding up to the chambers leading out of the ruins. Ashiwyn helped Cole tie his sack around his shoulders, before sending him up first.  
Bull was next, who hesitated with a grin.  
“Boss, I insist you go next.” He smirked mischievously.  
“Yeah, because if I do that, you’d just have a great view of my behind, isn’t that right?” Ashiwyn frowned at him, shoving him towards the scaffolding.  
“Kill joy. It’s not my fault you have a fine looking ass.”  
Ashiwyn frowned as he ascended, creaking each foothold, then turned to Dorian, who was looking slightly nervous.  
“Something the matter?” Ashiwyn asked.  
Dorian blinked, then grinned, “Not at all, My Lady. Though I must insist you go up this time. That scaffolding doesn’t seem very sturdy and I’d rather not have you as my cushion.”  
Ashiwyn nodded, though glancing with concern at the scaffolding. Her nerves of the height resurfaced from before. She took a deep breath, before securing her sack, and gripping onto the first wooden beam that ran horizontal. She hoisted herself up to the next one, her thin arms strong from climbing, training, and wielding her staff often.   
However, as she pulled herself up onto the mezzanine platform, a groan echoed throughout the chamber as the scaffolding lurched. Panicked, she looked up to where Bull and Cole kneeled above her at the hole in the ceiling, before the whole scaffolding collapsed.  
She let out a scream as she fell, the wooden structure falling in on itself. The wood roared and a cloud of dust sprayed up, making it difficult for Cole and Bull to see.  
“Boss! Dorian!” Bull called down, his eye searching.  
“I’m alright!” Dorian replied, coughing up dust and swatting the air clear. “I can’t see any blasted thing though! Inquisitor?”  
“Here!” called out a strained answer, and Dorian cast a spell to sweep away all the dust. He followed where her voice had come from.  
“Pain. There’s so much pain after falling. Lungs filled with dust and rot and it’s hard to breathe.” Cole said, and Bull turned to him, baffled, and his brow creasing at the boy’s worrisome words.  
“Shit.”  
Dorian could see her. Well. Part of her... She was trapped beneath the heavy wood, her right arm and her head free, but the rest of her was being crushed.  
“Maker’s breath, are you alright?” Dorian gasped, quickly kneeling beside her and attempting to lift it. It barely budged, and Ashiwyn’s cry stopped him immediately Not even Bull and Cole would be much help.  
“Shit, I’m gonna come down!” Bull called, but Dorian shook his head.  
“With what? And how would you get back out!? Go send for help! We’re going to need more people and ladders!”   
Ashiwyn wheezed, and Dorian returned his attention to her.   
“I can’t feel my legs.”  
“Hurry!” Dorian shouted to them, and they quickly disappeared;  
“Don’t you know any healing spells? Y-You’re a mage as well…”  
Dorian scoffed, “I’m a necromancer. If you were dead I could help.”  
Ashiwyn frowned.  
“Sorry, not helping. You’re more important alive.”  
They remained silent as Dorian tutted, assessing the weight of the structure.  
“If they send men with a whole lot of ropes, they could attach it to a pulley system, I’ll tie them onto the scaffolding, and they can lift it from up there and I pull you out quickly.”  
“Sounds good. How long will it take?” Ashiwyn spoke softly, trying to shift her shoulders, but failed.  
“I’m not sure… Are you uncomfortable?” Dorian questioned, but shrugged when she gave him a look. “Here.”  
He shuffle closer, lifted her head gently to rest on his thigh.   
“Thank you, that’s… better.” She thanked him, and closed her eyes, letting out a strained sigh. Brow furrowed a moment, “There’s something sharp poking at my back. I think it might be my staff…”  
“It could have broken when you landed on it.” Dorian suggested, and realized he needed to make sure she didn’t sleep, because she might not wake up.  
“Damn it…” She muttered, “I spent hours working on it with Dagna.”

A few hours went by, and Ashiwyn’s consciousness was fading. Quickly. She was struggling to keep her eyes open, and Dorian was becoming more and more concerned. He held her free hand, her grip loosening, but he held on firmly. He had been braiding parts of her hair earlier, mainly something to keep himself busy, as well as making sure she was still awake as he told her stories of Tevinter.  
Now, unsure of what to talk about, he asked her questions about her clan, her sister and how she became the keeper’s first.  
“My sister… she was a hunter… and when I was picked to be the Keeper’s first, she ran away. I think she’s in Denerim, but… I don’t know. It was about five years ago… that she left. She writes letters to me.. every now and then… of where she is…”  
“How old is she?” Dorian asked.  
“Same as I am, she’s my twin.”  
Dorian raised an eyebrow, trying to picture another Ashiwyn.  
“Is she much like you are?” He asked again, and Ash shook her head.  
“Not really. She’s… not at all like I am. She’s… impulsive, rash, much more… adventurous than me.”  
“And you’re not adventurous?”  
Ash chuckled, which spasmed into a cough, “No… No she’s more the type to jump into a cave full of spiders on her own for the thrill of it… the hope of treasure and gold… at the end.”  
“My kind of lady.” Dorian laughed softly, and Ashiwyn made a face. “You know what I mean. I’d love to meet her one day…”  
“She’d get along with you and Bull…” Ash noted, “Niphiel… Niphiel is her name…”  
She had trailed off quietly, and Dorian gave her a gentle shake, “Ashiwyn, hey! Stay with me!”  
“I can’t… I don’t feel anything.” She muttered. Ashiwyn felt heavy, her eyes feeling tired and she just really wanted to go to sleep. It scared her, and she gasped. Tears began to dribble down her cheeks as she sook with a weak sob, “I can’t…”  
“Everything is going to be all right, I promise you.” Dorian was becoming more and more concerned. Where the blight were those reinforcements?! “I promise we’ll get back to Skyhold safe and sound.”  
He caressed her tattooed face soothingly, trying to distract her as best he could. He couldn’t let her die like this… He couldn’t do that... Not to Cullen. He needed to protect her for him. Dorian had promised Cullen before they left for this mission, and he was a man of his word.  
“If… If I don’t make it… Can you find her for me? Find… Niphiel?”  
“Ashiwy-,”  
“Down there!” boomed a familiar voice, way above them and far away.  
“Please, Dorian. If I don’t make it out of this... Find her… Have Cullen find her… She needs to know…” Her last word struggled along as her eyes slipped close and she fell completely limp.  
“Ashiwyn?” Dorian panicked, and the ceiling dusted and rumbled, and Bull appeared, along with several soldiers.  
“Get to it! The Inquisitor is fading!” He shouted up to them, and shook her gently, “Ashiwyn, stay with me!”

 

After being lifted out, the Inquisitor was put onto a cart, the onhand healers unsure of what to do with her. A large splinter of wood had spiked through her abdomen, which had been revealed as they pulled away the structure. Her legs had been broken and her lungs severely bruised under the weight of the wood.  
They were able to remove the splinter carefully while she remained unconscious, alive, but barely. They travelled for a week, the healers doing the best they could to keep the Inquisitor alive.  
As the cart neared the base of the Frostback Mountain Range, a small squadron of soldiers on horseback were awaiting them, Commander Cullen at the lead.

The squadron formed up ranks with the caravan, while Cullen slowed down to ride behind the cart.  
Dorian appeared, lifting the flap up and meeting the Lion’s eyes with a grim look.  
“She’s steady. For now.” He said, kneeling down and grabbing hold of the side as they hit a few bumps.  
“Has she awakened at all?” Cullen asked, his stoic mask hiding any emotion.  
“Twice.” Answered Dorian, “We gave her water the first time, but she fell under almost immediately. The second time she started crying uncontrollably and we couldn’t calm her down. The healer had to give her a sleeping potion and she hasn’t woken up since.”  
“How long ago was that?”  
“Two days ago.”  
Cullen remained stoic, nodding his head, but Dorian didn’t miss the twitch in his jawline. With a whistle, Cullen steered off, moving back to the front of the march through the mountains, and Dorian lowered his head with a sigh. He’d been careful to wipe the blood from his hands before he talked to Cullen, but now he stared down at a smear on the palm of his hand.  
Grimacing, he settled back inside the caravan, making sure, for the hundredth time, that her blankets were tucked and changing the cloth from her forehead. Cole had now appeared, holding one of Ashiwyn’s fragile hands.  
“Holding her hand helps. Even if she does not know it.” Cole said softly.  
Dorian nodded, sitting against the short rail of the caravan and folding his arms, eyes trained on the pale face of his wounded friend.  
“The Lion’s mask conceals his fear. So does yours. You fear her death.”  
Dorian shook his head, “That is true.”  
“But not completely. You are afraid of losing the one person you let close. Your closest friend who showed you light in the darkness.”  
Dorian swallowed hard, turning his gaze at the young man, “It’s happened already. I don’t want it to happen again.”

They had begun the ascent to the valley of the Inquisition’s tents, underneath the looming shadow of Skyhold, when the Inquisitor awoke again.  
She gasped, writhing in pain and letting out a stifled cry, breathing shallow. Dorian watched helplessly as Cole brushed a hand through her crimson hair, almost calming Ashiwyn immediately, but she remained conscious, the turquoise irises a dull slit through her heavy-lidded eyes.  
“Cole…” She moaned, and she gave his hand a squeeze. But any colour in Cole’s face drained as her eyes slowly drifted to him, and Dorian paused.  
“Cole, what’s the matter?”  
He remained silent and startled as he stared back at the inquisitor.  
“No. I can’t do that.” He finally said, so quietly Dorian almost missed it. The Tevene’s brow furrowed as he glanced between the Inquisitor and the boy.  
“Do what?” Dorian asked, becoming more confused, until it snapped.  
“Please…” Ashiwyn begged softly, tears spilling down the sides of her pale face, “Please Cole….”  
“Cole.” Dorian moved a hand over to the boy’s shoulder, and he winced from the touch, “Cole, listen to me.”  
But the blonde boy was shaking, and it took gentle shove from Dorian to get his attention, his ghostly eyes training on him, wide and terrified.  
“Tell Cullen we need to move faster. The situation is dire.”   
Cole hesitated, but nodded once, before seemingly disappearing. The man shuffled closer to Ashiwyn’s side taking the hand Cole had held onto, feeling how cold her skin was. Turquoise eyes lazily focused on him, and she let out a strained groan.  
“I swear to Andraste’s knickers that if you ask me to kill you…” He grumbled, but no sign of any emotion graced Ashiwyn’s face except the cold hard pain.  
Suddenly, Dorian heard a shout from ahead, and the caravan picked up pace, and so did Dorian’s anxiety.

Skyhold. Finally. 

When the caravan reached its destination and lurched to a stop, Ashiwyn had slipped into unconsciousness again, Dorian began gathering her blankets upon her stretcher, but as he reached, the flaps burst open and Cullen was there, his stoic mask cracking as a look of pain and absolute fear marred his features.  
The look on the Commander’s face as he held her almost broke Dorian’s heart. He needed her. More than Dorian needed her, and he knew that. It was the look of a man falling to pieces.  
So, carefully, the two of them lifted her stretcher from the wagon, two soldiers standing ready hold the rest of the weight.  
Carrying the Inquisitor through the courtyard and up the staircases to the main hall was no easy task. And it wasn’t from her weight. No, she weighed like a feather. It was the gut-wrenching looks of despair from the Inquisition’s agents, followers, soldiers and allies that made the weight that much heavier.  
A flurry of the Inquisitions lead surgeons and healers followed them up to the inquisitor’s chambers, and once they had her pale form laid gently on her bed, the healers shooed the men out, immediately preparing to fix the broken form of their once strong inquisitor.  
Outside the door, Dorian just about collapsed. He slid down the stone wall, exhaustion taking its toll on him.  
He heard the other man let out a shaky sigh, and glanced upwards.  
Cullen was squeezing the bridge of his nose, his whole form tense.  
“Cullen, I-…” Dorian paused, “I’m sorry.”  
The blonde commander turned his gaze to him, and he shook his head, “No… I should be thanking you. You were there for her, and you stayed by her side.”  
Dorian didn’t miss the crack in his voice, but he nodded solemnly.  
“Go get some rest, Dorian. You look awful.”  
The Tevene gave an exhausted chuckle, “Normally I would say that’s impossible, but… I feel awful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if I'm gonna finish this crappy drabble, but I hope you liked it.


End file.
